New York

On any given day, I’ll be walking down the halls of my high school and they will suddenly transform into the streets of Manhattan. The front office becomes the corporate headquarters of Vogue, and each classroom grows into a different designer boutique – Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Henri Bendel, Bergdorf’s. As I walk down the hallways, my worn down high top Converse transfigure into high-heeled Christian Louboutins, beautifully painted with the iconic red sole. I glide into my English class and find my seat, but I’m not sitting in front of an instructor, I’m seated front row at Whitney Pozgay's 2015 Spring Collection runway show. In all of these moments, heedless of reality, I find myself surrounded with the pure bliss and similarity of the fashion capital of the world - New York City.

This poem is about: 
Me

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